


Where Beauty Goes To Die

by stefaferd



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A combination of the book(s) and tv show, Adult Content, Angst, Badass, Death, Dragon Riders, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Heir, Iron Throne - Freeform, King - Freeform, Lineage, Love, More Death, Mulan Inspired Adventure, Plot Twists, Queen - Freeform, Romance, Secret Title, Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Smut, Sunrise Ritual, Wet Dream, a lot of sword fighting, independance, the beginning is written from a long time ago so bare with me, the love each other but are too stubborn to admit it, there’s a love triangle but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefaferd/pseuds/stefaferd
Summary: Wren didn't know that she was the princess to a once powerful throne, nor did she know that an impending war was soon to be upon the most ruthless seven kingdoms – a war that would separate the powerful from the weak, and bloodlines from honor and nobility.





	1. THE IGNORANCE

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for choosing to read this story! Down below is the beginning of my own version of Game of Thrones and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the story begins.

**BEFORE**

**T** he night came with terror.

Screams of agony rang throughout the castle walls as every man, woman, and child were slaughtered in cold blood. Fire licked up the walls and fallen men laid eternally unconscious. There was no light in the darkness of the castle, no joy as there was at the beginning of the evening. Only the looming resignation of dwindling life.

The fog was slowly being lifted as the night reached its peak, the charred grass dewy with ash and rain. Her tattered nightgown swayed through the back garden, her cheeks wet with splattered blood and tears. The light fabric wrapped around her head hid her unruly hair and face in a shadow. She couldn't risk being seen, especially not when her task was unfulfilled.

Jogging through the maze she had designed specifically herself, she rounded a corner, where she was met with an awaiting figure. She stopped at the entrance, clutching the bundle in her arms with every ounce of strength she could muster. She eyed the man.

"Ned?" Her voice was raspy, as though she had been screaming only moments ago.

He stepped into the light cast from the moon, his young expression grim as his shoulders dropped. He remained tense, however. "Elisa, don't do this." It came out as a plea.

She gave him a dreadful, beautiful smile. "Take good care of her, I'm counting on you and Cat." Elisa stepped forward to hand over the wide-eyed bundle, taking one last look at her daughter before letting Ned hold onto her. Emotion laced her voice as she slipped her hand in the pocket of her gown.

Ned glanced down at the child, ignoring the crackling of the flames and the shouting from the distant villagers who would soon be dead by morning. He brought a finger up to trace the side of the child's face, taking note of the glossy brown eyes she had; just like her mother's. "What is her name?" He asked. The child gurgled back at him. "Elisa?"

Lifting his head to her, he gaped at the scene before his feet. Elisa laid on the ground, her hand falling from the dagger plunged into her stomach. Pain inflicted across her face as she stared up at the stars.

"Elisa, no, no you can't leave her alone," Ned fell to his knees, crawling with the child to his chest by a secured arm. He reached for her bloodied hand.

She smiled to Ned, her eyes distant as blood soaked through her clothes. "She will never be alone, not when she has people like you willing to protect her." Her hand shook as she blinked down to her daughter, a tear sliding down the side of her face and into the red pool beneath her body. "Wren. Her name is Wren Elisabeth."

He gripped her hand tighter, even as he felt her pulse grow fainter and fainter. "I will not fail you, Elisa, neither Thomas. I promise."

She gave him one last, gracious smile, her hand growing limp and cold as she attempted to squeeze his hand for the last time. "I know, Ned, I know."

Her dream-state eyes remained open to the sky, and Ned, who had taken it upon himself to protect the last of the living heir to an ancient bloodline, stared down at the small child in his arms, his chest full of despair and his heart consumed with hope. He ran his thumb over her forehead, where a tiny cut had been made along the edge of her hairline. Smoke filled the air as he brought himself to his feet, not being able to bring himself to look at the burning kingdom a second time that night.

He found his horse waiting for him, and with Wren snug against him, he headed North toward Winterfell.

 

**PRESENT DAY**

 

 **S** ilence weighed between them as the brisk morning settled within place on the distant horizon. The sun was burning its usual white and the sky itself was a pale blue, reminding her of the fine silks Lady Sansa owned. She enjoyed mornings, unlike the person standing next to her, who happened to be slumped against the brick wall with their eyes half shut. She couldn't understand, even after all these years, how he still got up with her almost every morning to watch the sun rise.

She nudged his shoulder with her own. "I didn't know I was so boring," she teased him with a pout.

He stood up straighter and opened his eyes so that he could look at her properly. "I'm sorry, Wren, I don't know what's gotten into me lately." He apologized.

She laughed, shaking her head. "It's fine, Jon. You don't need to explain anything to me."

He gazed out into the distance before looking to Wren once more, his eyes intense with the truth. "I haven't been sleeping well," he continued before she cut in, "and it isn't my bed or my eating habits or all of those other theories you believe in, I just,  _can't_."

Wren brought her bottom lip into her mouth, sighing at her best friend as she stared at him, thinking. "Maybe you should stop waking up so early, you've clearly been out later these past few weeks from the bags under your eyes and it was bound to happen sooner or later."

His shoulders dropped at her proposition. "Wren, I can't stop our tradition."

Even she could tell with his denial, that he truly wanted to get those few, precious hours of sleep in the morning. And she couldn't blame him, he worked harder than anybody she knew. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a stern look. "I'm cutting you off, and I'm cutting myself off, too. We both should grow up a little bit, especially now since I won't always have your parents protecting me every second."

Jon looked like he wanted to say more, but refrained himself. "Don't worry, Wren, I won't let anybody harm you. They don't have a reason to."

Wren nodded, looking down at her feet which were covered in thick socks and boots. She hated wearing dresses, not only because of how  _free_  they made her feel, but because she wasn't a Lady, she was more of a misfit who had the resemblance of a woman. "Thank you, Jon. For everything."

He didn't move from her, staring at her for a second too long. She wanted to know what was going through his mind at that very moment, but she didn't have the chance to ask, because Bran was walking up to them with a bow in his hand.

Wren smiled at him and Jon had stepped back from the step he didn't realize he'd taken. "Ready for your lesson today, Bran?" Wren asked in an excited tone.

He nodded and went down the stairwell that led to the center of the armory. It was where they held all the weapons and practiced fighting.

At a young age, Wren had taken to liking the bow and arrow, and even the sword when Ned let her wield it. She found the workout stress relieving, mostly on the nights she had bad dreams or couldn't sleep. That was where she started talking to Jon, who saw her one evening after needing a bit of fresh air. They became instant friends, both sharing an interest in fighting and their social status.

Jon was a bastard and Wren was an orphan, both taken in by Ned. Catelyn Stark, Ned's wife, didn't mind Wren being at the castle, but it was clear that she was irritated with Jon every time they were in the same room together, even if she kept her mouth shut.

Wren left with Jon to go help Bran. Her heart slightly aching still from the conversation with Jon. She hated the fact that they wouldn't be able to spend as much time together anymore, but she also realized that they were older now and  _only_  friends. Jon probably didn't want to be seen hanging around with her anymore. She wasn't bothered by it, she was just saddened that the one person she hung around was going to be spending more time outside the castle.

She despised the one rule Ned had given her when she had gotten old enough to understand what was right and wrong. She couldn't leave Winterfell. She couldn't comprehend why; maybe he was just looking out for her, but either way, it irked her beyond belief. She just wished there was some way she could get past the walls that have confined her for the majority of her life.

Bran let out an irritated huff of air while Wren found her place next to Robb, who greeted her with a curt nod. She was acquaintances with him, but Wren had never truly found the things she would hear about him around the castle appealing. He was told to be a ladies man, someone who flirted with every girl he saw, but she never had that problem for some reason. He always steered clear of her as if she was poison.

Jon patted Bran on the shoulder, "go on, Father's watching." Wren looked up to see that indeed Ned and Catelyn were watching their son. "And your mother," she heard Jon mutter to Bran.

He stepped back to join Wren and Robb, letting Bran do the rest of the work. Bran looked over to her, in which she gave him a reassuring smile. He set the arrow into the bow and shakily pulled back the string. With his trajectory, she knew he wasn't going to make the target. Laughter filled the armory as Wren glared at the two who were chuckling from either side of her. Jon quickly lost his grin and Robb cleared his throat.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Ned shouted from above them. "Keep practicing, Bran. Go on."

"Don't think too much, Bran," Jon encouraged.

"Relax your bow arm." Robb said from beside her.

Bran pulled another arrow back, steadying his gaze to the taunting target. Wren watched as the arrow flew to the center of the target nearly perfect, yet she knew it wasn't Bran who shot the arrow. They all turn to see Arya holding a bow with a proud smile stretched across her face. Instantly, Bran took off running after her, discarding his bow in the mud.

Jon and Robb shouted at him as he chased quick, little Arya, and Wren found her gaze up to the balcony where Ned and Catelyn stood, conversing lowly with Rodrick Cassel and Theon Greyjoy. Theon's stormy eyes met her hard ones for a brief second before bringing his attention back to Ned. Wren's face was set grim.

* * *

"What will you name him?" She asked as the small wolf licked her cheek repeatedly. Smiling, she scratched him between the ears, earning herself another lick to the face.

Jon watched the two of them fondly as he walked to the groomer's, looking back he said, "I like the name Ghost, it suits him."

Wren nodded in agreement. "Ghost it is then." When they reached the door, Wren kept hold of Ghost, who nuzzled his head in Wren's chest playfully. "Have fun in there, I'll see you after the banquet?"

Jon rolled his eyes, "if you call shaving 'fun', then yes. Could you keep Ghost in your room until the banquet is over? I don't want him running rampant around the Lannister's."

Wren smiled with a nod just as the door was yanked open to reveal Robb, who was shirtless and looked like he had just taken a bath. He squinted accusingly between a blushing Jon and a confused Wren for a moment, only to smile and tug on Jon's arm. "Let's go, they're going to be here soon."

The door shut in Wren's face as she was left with Ghost fast asleep in her arms and newfound thoughts swimming amidst her head. The Lannister's were coming to Winterfell, which could only mean one thing; the King wanted something of Ned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! more will be updated soon, let me know down in the comments what you thought of this chapter and what you think of jon and wren's relationship. xx


	2. THE BASTARD

**L** aughter came from tight-lipped smiles, with wine staining the drunken's flesh and music filling the area of boisterous people. Outside, the sound of a sword plundering into a fencing dummy could be heard, it's stuffing flying into the air as each hit was full of anger. The cold wind of the night bit at the skin of his freshly shaven face. He thought back to the moment when the blade swept across his cheeks.

_He closed the door behind him as he left Wren standing in the hallway, that understanding, soft smile on her face. Robb returned to his seat in the barber chair, letting the man shave his face. Theon was there as well, his skin clear of hair. Jon greeted Theon with a nod; he was never close with Theon. Jon didn't have many friends. Whenever he needed to talk, he would always go to Wren, or he would keep it to himself. There were things not even Wren knew._

_Jon started to take his shirt off, in case he got any shaving cream on his clothes. "Why's your mother so dead-set on us getting pretty for the king?" He questioned Robb._

_Theon answered before Robb could. "It's for the queen, I bet. I hear she's sleek as a mink."_

_Jon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Robb smiled, "I hear the prince is a right royal prick." The barber was almost done with him, meaning it was almost Jon's turn, much to his disappointment._

_"Think of all those southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick." Theon could only wish, Jon mused in his head. The only thing Theon ever thought about was sex._

_Robb stood up and slapped Jon on the back, "Go on, Tommy, shave him good. He's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair." Jon sat in the chair and Robb winked at his half-brother. "Besides Wren, of course."_

_Jon was about to stand up and knock some sense into Robb, but the barber held Jon down, the razor-blade curving over his skin. He glared at a grinning Robb._

_Theon chuckled, "never thought about that one," he looked at Jon with a twinkle in his eyes, "how is she in bed, you reckon?"_

_A scowl fell over Jon's lips as his dark eyes burned holes into the two older boys. "She's not like that, and I don't like her in that way," Jon tried to explain, but it was a weak attempt._

_Robb looked at his half-brother with his ice-cold, northern eyes. "You know what I think, Theon?" He pondered aloud. Jon's hands curled into fists. Theon's mouth twisted into a devious grin. "I think Jon is lying."_

_Jon could feel pressure building up in his chest as he held his breath, afraid that if he exhaled fire would come out. "I am_ not _," he spoke through his teeth. "Wren is . . ." He faltered after he couldn't think of anything. What was Wren to him? A friend? A crush? No, Jon doesn't get those types of feelings. Especially for the girl he grew up with. She was just a friend._

_Robb smiled victoriously, "I think little Jon here has an infatuation with darling Wren."_

He didn't. He  _couldn't_. This was Wren, the girl he played knights and dragons with. This was the girl he went to when it seemed nobody wanted him around. She was his secret keeper, his confidante. He hit the dummy harder, swung the sword with more power. He didn't like Wren, not in that way, at least.

His mind fell to the early morning, before the Lannisters and the King had arrived, before the sun had even risen. The highest bridge in Winterfell was their spot, their place to watch the world wake up and stretch its arms across the frozen terrain of the North.

The sun that morning was brighter than the others. It shined with a soft yellow glow that touched even the darkest of shadows. The light hit her face, turning her skin into a satin aura of freckles. She was smiling at the landscape and the sun that was just beginning to rise from its slumber. His eyes were half awake, but the exhaustion that hazed his mind evaporated as he turned to look at her.

If he had one word to describe Wren, he would use: illuminating. There was no denying the brightness she added to every room she walked into. Even her smile, to Jon, was as sparkling as freshly fallen snow. Wren was beautiful, especially with her crooked nose and curvy waist.

Jon remembered that morning as he was staring at her, she had caught him in the act. "What?" She smiled at him, her head tilted to the side as she wondered what went on in his head. To Wren, he was always so mysterious, yet she knew what he was thinking most of the time.

Jon pushed down his head until his hair covered his reddening cheeks and ears, peeking up at the freckles that made a treasure map across her face. "It's just so beautiful, is all."

Wren breathed out as she turned to look at the horizon. "It is," Wren agreed. "What is your favorite part about it? Besides getting up, of course," she joked.

Jon hadn't meant for it to slip out, though he couldn't look away from her even if he wanted to. "Everything."

"Is he dead yet?" The voice startled Jon.

Turning around, Jon beamed at the sight of the man. "Uncle Benjen!" Jon let his sword fall as he went to hug the man dressed in all black, grateful that it wasn't Lady Catelyn, who had instructed that no one of royalty wanted to see him.

"You got bigger," Benjen pulled away from Jon, "I rode all day. Didn't want to leave you alone with the Lannisters. Why aren't you at the feast?"

"Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to seat a bastard in their midst." Jon said in a bitterly mocking tone.

"Well," Benjen smiled warmly through the snow that was falling, "you're always welcome on the wall. No bastard was ever refused a seat there."

Jon's eyes lit up at the mention of the Wall. "So take me with you when you go back."

"Jon. . . ." Benjen sighed, his breath crystallizing into the air.

"Father will let me if you ask him, I know he will." Jon knew his father would let him go, it meant one less mouth to feed and a burden off his shoulders.

"The Wall isn't going anywhere," Benjen tried to negotiate.

"I'm ready to swear your oath," Jon pleaded. He was ready to leave Winterfell.

"You don't understand what you'd be giving up. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons." Benjen listed off the laws he swore to never break.

Jon's immediate thoughts went to Wren and her warm, brown eyes. "I don't care about that." His voice came out cold and hard, like the wind, while inside his heart was starting to crack.

Benjen eyed Jon warily. "You might, if you knew what it meant. . . . I'd better get inside. Rescue your father from his guests. We'll talk later."

Jon let his uncle leave him. He started to finally feel the cold getting to him, the anger in his blood simmering down. He was about to leave for Wren's room, where Ghost was held, when a slurring voice stopped him.

"Your uncle's in the Night's Watch." In the dark, Tyrion Lannister was hiding in the shadows against an archway.

Jon peered at him, his eyebrows knit in question. "What're you doing back there?"

"Preparing for a night with your family." Jon moved where he could see Tyrion, and he saw a flash of glass in the moon's light. It was filled with an amber colored liquid. "I've always wanted to see the Wall." He added with an unfulfilled sigh.

"You're Tyrion Lannister. The queen's brother?" Jon asked for clarification. He was a smaller sized man, something a regular man would call an "imp" or "dwarf".

"My greatest accomplishment. You – You're Ned Stark's bastard, aren't you?" Tyrion pointed out.

Jon felt his anger get the best of him and walk away, looking at anything besides the tiny, drunk man.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "Did I offend you? Sorry. You are the bastard, though."

"Lord Eddard Stark is my father." Jon admitted rancorously, turning around to face the man.

"And Lady Stark is not your mother. Making you a bastard. Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor. Then it can never be used to hurt you."

Jon felt his heart swell, for some reason, at his words. But still, he felt himself grow angrier for reasons even he did not know. Maybe it was because trying to slice a practice dummy in half wasn't the best way to sort out your problems. "What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" He huffed out.

Tyrion's eyes glazed over with a thought; a memory possibly. "All dwarves are bastards in their fathers' eyes."

Jon watched as Tyrion left. With the same fiery anger running through his veins, Jon walked away from the dummy, instead of picking up his sword.

After entertaining Ghost for a few hours, Wren decided to slip into her night gown and finish off on the book she had been reading. She was on the last page when a knock came at her door. Ghost, who was curled up at Wren's side, lifted his head and growled.

Wren couldn't help but smile at the pup. She gave him a reassuring scratch behind the ears and went to open the door. Her assumptions were right as she saw Jon standing there, but his heaving chest and weary expression changed her light attitude.

Yet, before she could ask him what was wrong, he had shut the door behind him and pushed her up against a wall, his own actions surprising him. He had Wren trapped against a door, one hand on her waist and the other on the door's surface beside her head. Her wide, brown eyes stared up at him in shock. Undeniably, her heart pounded in her chest.

"Jon," she whispered thickly. Their close bodies were putting the fire that crackled in her fireplace to shame.

Jon wasn't sure what to do with himself or the girl he had trapped between his arms and the door. He only wanted to be close to her as he walked down the hallway to her room. He thought about everything that happened from the sun rising to Tyrion Lannister's drunken advice. All he wanted was to see the girl with the freckles and heartwarming, brown eyes.

And now that he had her – Jon felt himself leaning forward, his forehead falling against her's in defeat. He breathed in her delicate scent as if she were a flower. "Just. . . ." He started to say.

Wren wasn't sure what was happening. She didn't know what had bothered Jon or why he was acting so . . . intimate, but those thoughts were only background noise as she felt his hand shaking against her waist. Sliding her hands up his own waist and to his shoulders, she cupped the side of his chilled, bare skin.

He was freezing and she was the warmth he yearned for, but every time he got close they burnt out.

Wren smiled as she never let their eyes waver from each other's. "I like you better with your beard," she echoed quietly.

Jon laughed, smiling down at the girl he knew he could never get away from. No matter what the world said to him or about her, he would always fall into her embrace as the moon replaced the sun. He found the night his favorite time to watch the sky, not because of the numerous amounts of stars or the quietness that would drift throughout all of Winterfell – because no matter how much he hated watching the sun rise and no matter how much she secretly feared the dark, they would end up in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear i didn't forget about uploading the chapters for this story ahah. i would also like to apologize for how short some of the chapters may be, as i have wrote many of them awhile ago and on wattpad. anyways, thank you for the warm welcome on this story, i'm really fond of it and i have huge plans for it. i'm letting you guys know this in advance but if you didn't read all of the tags, this is a bit of a slow burn (sometimes lol), and this story is more about our darling wren making her way through the game of thrones (lol). you really see her grow not only with her relationship with jon, but with herself and others and i think it's really beautiful and exciting. there will be mature content in this story, probably more so on here considering i know people who follow me on my wattpad account, but we'l see ahah. now that i've rambled, let me know your thoughts on this chapter, i love reading comments and interacting and would love to make friends on here! xx


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